


Alone time

by jaythewriter



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: M/M, bit more trash, plot what plot??????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 20:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2634629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaythewriter/pseuds/jaythewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jay and Tim, in mistresspiece's LBaS universe, are dragged along to visit Brian's family. They go off to have some, as the title implies, some alone time. It's not in a place Tim is entirely okay with, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mistresspiece](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistresspiece/gifts).



> some more trash. had more details and stuff, like, 2000 words worth of proper context, but i was like, no. so i just threw this at the screen. may have some mistakes. this was posted one night when i posted like three things at once so i'm sorry to those who had their ao3 experience rocked by that.

Jay is an impulsive man. Tim knows that. Impulse is what gets him in trouble, sends him rushing into the worst of situations and sends him tumbling out with a brand new set of bruises for his battered up ego.

Impulse is what has Tim on the forest floor now, hot hips grinding into his lap. Impulse is on Jay’s tongue, running along Tim’s thumping pulse and delving into his panting mouth. Impulse is in the hands that hold down his straining arms.

It’s wonderful, hot and heavy, but Tim knows-- and he knows Jay knows-- this is the worst idea. 

In the shitty horror movies Jay likes to inflict on him, the couples like to go to those shadowy places of death to fuck and fondle. Forests are definitely among those shadowy places, where the chainsaw-wielding murderers emerge from the lake and follow the sound of pornstar moaning to get satiate their need for blood.

Life isn’t a horror film, their lives haven’t been a horror film for the past few years.

But to be laying in the forest together, dusk hanging like a violet curtain pinned to the reddening skies, that’s like wandering into the lion’s cage at the zoo while wearing a meat suit. 

“Jay, maybe we-- shit-- ought to go back to the campsite…”

This is the first time they’ve had any alone time, away from Brian and his nosey loud family. So, in a way, it’s understandable. Tim wants to be alone with Jay, to have him in his arms without hearing the coos of the onlookers and cousins who are more open-minded than most Alabama residents but have a strange idea of what privacy is. If Tim saw one more naked person wander past their cabin…

But here, beyond the reach of the apple orchards and among the whispering leaves, /this/, this is exactly what made Tim hesitate to say yes when Brian invited him and Jay to come along during this family reunion. 

(“I gotta warn you, there are trees, like, everywhere, and I know it’s been ages since anything… weird has happened. But I didn’t think it’d be right to /not/ say anything, you know?”)

Of course Tim played it off. He isn’t scared of a couple of trees. He drives by forests every day on the way to work, and Jay said he was excited because that meant there’d be deer everywhere-- and there are, Tim is surprised he hasn’t seen any since Jay jumped him from behind with kisses to the neck.

Now that he’s on his back, vulnerable, with a pair of roaming hands up his shirt and a writhing Jay in his lap, he’s acutely aware of the backlit leaves above them. Black, spindly, reaching, threatening, reaching for their throats. Like hands. Long. Digging into skin. Splitting open.

Then heat, a hot mouth on his again. He closes his eyes, and he loses himself in the sensations around him. His brain is cruel. He’s seen thousands of trees since he broke free of that creature’s hold, all of them normal as could be. These aren’t special in any way. 

He’s here with Jay. Alone. His jeans are being peeled down to his thighs and grass tickles the underside of his legs and familiar heat is pressed against him. Jay’s hand closes around them both and he moves, rocking his waist and whispering his name, beckoning him to stay here with him.

Murmuring leaves talk over the roaring in his brain, reminding him where they are and, shit, even if they didn’t have their past of threatening things waiting for them in the forest, this is ridiculous. No one has sex in the forest for a reason. It’s not the most sanitary place--

But Jay’s whining, loud and free, and they’re the only people in the world for a while. Tim’s hands, chilly at the palms from the night that’s upon them, come to rest on his warm hips, and the difference in sensation must do /something/ for him. The rough buck of his hips tears a curse from Tim’s lips and he tosses his head back, arching his back in time. He has to be near Jay, as near to him as he can be, and, warm, slippery, Jay’s head is tilted back as well and his legs tremble at Tim’s sides.

That was fast, even for Jay, but he keeps stroking Tim and the delight in those big blue eyes carries him over just as quickly.

Trees? What trees, there’s only Jay, soft and pliable and his. A chorus of birds is chirping somewhere but he has a warm body in his arms and his anxiety is buzzing away in the back of his mind. It’s there, but… Jay’s here too.

That’s what matters. 

There are no shadows or creeping creatures, no coughing, no blood.

Just his pounding heart pressed to Jay’s.


End file.
